


Love Is...

by lears_daughter



Category: 30 Rock
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-25
Updated: 2010-02-25
Packaged: 2017-10-07 13:19:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lears_daughter/pseuds/lears_daughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love hurts, sometimes.  Sometimes it heals, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own 30 Rock.

Liz thinks that love is being willing to leave New York for (or with) someone.

This is what she tells Jack (in a much more bumbling, circuitous kind of way) when Ray gets promoted to Vice President of Printers (he works for HP, which is one of the reasons why Jack’s never been able to get along with him). The job, she explains, requires them to move. To Seattle.

Jack twists his wedding ring on his finger. It’s a little loose; he’s lost some weight in recent months, which is pretty weird since Jack’s as much of a stress eater as she is and, well, he’s under pretty constant stress.

“Who do you want to take over as head writer for TGS once you’re gone?” he asks briskly.

She stares. “That’s all you have to say?”

He cocks his head, his expression blank. “What do you want me to say?”

“You’re my best friend.” (They don’t say things like this to each other very often, but they’ve done it often enough that her tongue doesn’t stumble on the words.) “Don’t you care that I’m moving across the country?”

He shifts in his chair. For a moment she thinks she sees guilt, or maybe regret, flash through those blue blue eyes of his.

She wonders why she’s pushing this point. She knows he’ll miss her—when he moved to DC that one summer, he flew back once a week just to see her, ostensibly because he wanted to make sure she hadn’t regressed to her old lettuce-in-hair ways—but what she doesn’t know is whether she’s hoping he’ll try to talk her out of going. Not that it matters what he says, of course. She has to go.

“I may be your best friend, but Ray’s your husband. I’ll miss you, but we both know that you have to go,” Jack says, echoing her thoughts.

Liz twists the hem of her sweatshirt between her fingers, dissatisfied with his response. “Well.  Fine.” She clears her throat. “Ridiculous as it sounds, Frank should be my replacement. He’s stood in for me before and we’ve seen that he can take the responsibility seriously.”

Jack nods and makes a note on a piece of paper. She thinks it’s an excuse not to meet her eyes.

She hovers there for a minute, waiting for him to say something else. Something to cut the tension between them.

“Was there something else?” he asks.

His uninterested tone cuts through her. She stands there, looking at him, and wonders what’s wrong with the two of them. They used to be able to communicate. What happened?

“No,” she says after an endless pause. “Nothing else.”

***

Jack thinks that love is letting (or helping) someone do what’s best for them, even if it’s not what’s best for him.

So when Lemon comes to his office one day, her cheeks flushed and brown eyes bright with excitement, and says, “Ray and I are engaged!”, he does not curse or cry or try to convince her of all the ways Ray is wrong for her. (The first two, he may do when he is alone later.) 

Instead, he smiles and says, “Congratulations, Lemon, I knew you could do it.” Then he scratches his chin and adds, very seriously, “Now does seem like a good time for a wedding, doesn’t it?”

She looks at him oddly at that last bit but he pretends not to notice. If she’s going to marry someone she barely knows (yes, she’s been dating Ray for eight months, but he’s so boring that it’s impossible to really know him), why shouldn’t he?

The next time he sees her, approximately four hours later, he’s engaged to a twenty-something-year-old he picked up at a bar a week ago. (“Ohmygod,” she said, near tears as he offered her the ring, “I thought I was justanotheronenightstand to you, but instead you were out all week looking for a ring!”) (Actually, this is the same ring he once gave to Elissa, which has since been gathering dust in a drawer in his desk.)

When he joyously announces the news to Lemon, she stares at him with her mouth hanging open.

“I thought you’d learned your lesson after Phoebe,” she says at last.

He can’t stand the fact that there’s something like pity in her eyes. It makes him angry.

“If I have to pretend to be happy for you, you can damn well do the same for me.” 

Oh, no. Did he actually just say that? Given Lemon’s shocked, hurt expression, he’d guess so.

She clenches her jaw, her eyes glistening. “Congratulations, Jack,” she says with stiff formality. “I’m sure you and Buffy—”

“Bunny."

“—Bunny will be very happy together.”

Watching her leave, he thinks that she’s making a terrible mistake. He thinks maybe he’s just made one, too.


	2. Chapter 2

Colleen thinks that love is doing what you think is best for (or to) someone, even if they don’t agree about what that is.

Jack has been married for six months and Liz for six months and a day when Colleen gets in touch with her son’s favorite quack, Leo Spaceman (she hesitates to call him a doctor). After a series of seemingly unrelated questions, he jovially provides her with the drugs she needs to convincingly fake a heart attack. (After she did the old clutch-the-shoulder-and-fall-down maneuver at Jack’s first wedding, he’s wise to any half-cocked tricks she might try to play. It’s got to be realistic.)

(What Spaceman didn’t tell her was that the drugs don’t _fake_ a heart attack; they cause one. Imbecile. It’s a good thing she has the constitution of an ox, as well as some black market metal implants guaranteed to make her live forever.)

The hospital calls Jack, her emergency contact, and, though he probably waits another eight minutes to decide how to react, he does catch the next flight from New York to Florida and is by her side in less than a day. He looks tired, her Jack, and he’s forgotten to dye his hair recently (always a sign that he’s unhappy). 

(She’s entirely unsurprised that Buddy failed to accompany him.)

“Mother, how are you?” he says, taking her hand.

She frowns and makes a show of looking around. “Where’s Liz?”

His forehead furrows. “I don’t understand.”

“Why would you come to me in my time of need and _not_ bring Liz?” she demands. “You know that I like her better.”

He tries to extract his hand but she has an iron grip on it, which she tightens even further to emphasize her point. He winces as her nails dig into his skin.

“Colleen, Liz is married and living in Seattle now, as you’re well aware. You were at her wedding, remember?”

His tone makes it clear that he’s still bitter about her failure to attend his wedding. Well, of course she didn’t go to his. She _knew_ that his marriage was going to go bad in a matter of months, if not weeks. What she didn’t know was whether Liz’s marriage was similarly doomed. (After seeing Ray and noting his similarities to Jack—his size, occupation, voice, smile, even his hair—she was certain that it was.)

“I want Liz,” Colleen says, trying to sound weak and pathetic. (She comes across as brash and intimidating instead.) “She’ll come if you ask, Jack.  Or will you deny your dying mother this one favor?"

He looks at her for a moment as if he wishes he’d hit her harder that time he ran her over with his car. Then his eyes widen in comprehension and she thinks he’s _finally_ caught on to what she’s doing. (Jack’s the smartest of her children, but sometimes she thinks that isn’t saying much.)

“Well, Colleen,” he says slowly, with a dawning smile, “if you insist.”

***

Jenna thinks that love is being the female best man at someone’s (AKA your boss’s) wedding.

“I don’t see why I have to be your best man but you don’t have to be my maid of honor.”

“Really, Lemon?” Jack says, with that hint of sourness in his tone that never used to be there before this whole engagement fiasco. “You really don’t see why?”

Liz rolls her eyes. “You realize that I’m not actually a man, don’t you?”

“Trust me, you’re much closer to being a man than I’ll ever be to being a woman.”

“He’s right, Liz,” Jenna says brightly, wilting a little when they both turn their glares on her. “I mean, you can wear a tux, but can you imagine Jack in a dress?”

Liz cocks her head and squints at Jack, a smile unwittingly twitching at her lips. Their eyes meet and then the two of them are laughing. (Jenna has always been jealous of the way they sometimes seem to read each other’s minds. She’s never had anyone understand her as completely as those two understand each other.)

“Good God, can you imagine?” Jack wheezes.

“We’d put you in a tight orange number,” Liz says, waving her hands around Jack’s body in the vague outline of a dress. “What do you say about wearing a tulip in your hair?”

Jack runs his hand through his amazing hair. “Would I have to dance with the best man? Because I always lead.”

“Yeah?” Liz challenges with a grin. “I bet you’d follow me.”

Something about Liz’s words—Jenna’s not sure exactly what—seems to suck all the joy from the room, and in an instant Liz and Jack are back to standing awkwardly in Jack’s office, looking everywhere but at each other as the tailor measures Liz’s legs for her tux.

Jenna still isn’t clear on exactly how Liz and Jack ended up engaged at the same time—well, she’d understand it if they were engaged to each other, but sadly that’s not the case—or how they decided that having Liz’s wedding the day after Jack’s would be a good idea. 

Later, Jenna corners Liz in the women’s restroom.

“Okay, what’s going on?” she demands.

Liz continues to brush her teeth with her finger. (Jenna doesn’t point out that there’s spaghetti sauce on Liz’s shirt.) “What do you mean?”

“What’s happening with you and Jack? You two are being all…weird. It’s making me uncomfortable and when I’m uncomfortable it’s difficult for me to be as amazing a star as I usually am.”

“What are you talking about?” Liz says, too loudly. She’s always been a terrible actor. (Though Jenna knows that Liz’s failure as a performer was largely a result of the fact that she’s a brunette.) “Jack and I are fine.”

“You and Jack _aren’t_ fine. Come on, Liz,” she wheedles, “I’m your best friend. You can tell me anything.”

Liz frowns, sighs, huffs. Takes a deep breath. “I thought Jack would be happy for me. Ever since he found out I was engaged, though, he’s been acting like I betrayed him or something.”

“Well, yeah. That’s because he’s totally in love with you.”

“What?” Liz scoffs. “No he isn’t.”

Jenna nods sagely. “Head over heels.”

Liz sighs. “Listen, Jenna, in all the years he’s known me, Jack’s never once missed an opportunity to tell me how repulsive he finds me. Trust me when I say that his feelings for me are strictly platonic.”

Jenna thinks that Liz should pay more attention to the way Jack looks at her and less attention to the things he says. Also, does Liz really think Jack would give an all expenses paid honeymoon to a country whose name Jenna isn’t even allowed to know if he didn’t love her as more than a friend?

Jenna isn’t part of the wedding party at Jack’s wedding, so she doesn’t know what kind of shenanigans go on behind the scenes. She does know that Liz’s posture up at the altar is a surprising combination of tense and slumped. She knows that Jack keeps sneaking glances at Liz right up until Bunny has joined them at the altar. And when it turns out that Liz forgot the rings back in a dressing room—back in _Jack’s_ dressing room—Jenna wonders whether something more happened between them.

She gets a better view of things at Liz’s wedding, since she’s the maid of honor opposite Jack as best man. She sees the pain in his eyes as Liz walks down the aisle, looking beautiful in her ham napkin, her smile more reserved than one would expect from a woman on her wedding day. Ray stares worshipfully at her, too, a grin on his strikingly handsome face, and Jenna reflects that Liz could have made a worse choice than Jack Donaghy Lite. 

When it turns out that Jack has forgotten the rings back in Liz’s dressing room, Jenna’s not surprised. At the reception, when Jack stabs his fork into the table while watching Liz and Ray dance, Jenna’s not surprised. Later, when she overhears Ray say to Jack, “I always thought you two might be just a little bit in love, you know,” and Jack doesn't disagree, she’s not surprised.

She _is_ surprised when she comes upon Jack and Liz outside, standing a little too close together.

“I can’t go on like this any more,” Liz says. “I can’t stand us being friends and enemies and coworkers at the same time.”

“I understand,” Jack says. Jenna realizes that his hand is on Liz’s arm.

“Can we go back to the way things were?” Liz begs. “Please, Jack.  I miss you. I want my friend back.”

“I want that too,” he murmurs.

Liz smiles with relief.  “So we’re agreed? Friends?”

“Friends,” he say, then cups her face in his hands and kisses her.


	3. Chapter 3

Leo Spaceman thinks that love is best found by taking a green pill and then a purple pill (but by no means a yellow or blue; those are strictly for lust).

He wonders when Liz and Jack found the time to break into his supply, as that’s the only reason he can think of for the way the two of them can’t keep their eyes off of each other when Liz comes through the door of Colleen’s hospital room.

“Lemon,” Jack says, taking two steps toward her, his face splitting into a grin.

“Hello, Jack,” Liz says uncertainly. 

They shake hands, lingeringly. Leo wonders whether either of them is aware of how many germs are carried on the human hand (and, if so, he hopes they’ll tell him).

Mrs. Donaghy clears her throat and the two spring apart. Liz approaches the bed to hold the older woman’s hand. Jack’s eyes follow Liz without blinking. Leo makes a mental note to offer him eye drops in the future so his eyes won’t dry out whenever he’s around her.

“How are you, Colleen?” Liz asks.

Mrs. Donaghy grumbles a little—shooting a venomous glare in Leo’s direction that he doesn’t understand—then says, “Better now that you’re here.  But where’s that handsome husband of yours?”

Liz says, “I didn’t see much reason for us both to leave our vacation early, so he’s still in Hawaii.”

“I didn’t realize you were on vacation,” Jack says, inching closer to her.

She smiles ruefully. “To be honest, it was a relief to get away.” She lowers her voice as if to prevent Leo or Colleen from hearing, though they both can. “Ray always gets a little…frisky…when we’re away from home, unfortunately.”

Leo makes a mental note to offer Liz some yellow or blue pills.

“Listen, why don’t we get some coffee?” Jack suggests. “We’ll probably be here late, so we should fortify ourselves.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” Leo says.“Where should we go? And who’s going to look after Mrs. Donaghy while we’re gone?”

Jack presses his palm to his forehead. “I was talking to Lemon, Leo.”

“Oh.”

“What do you think, Lemon?”

Liz bites her lip. “I don’t know. Shouldn’t I stay with Colleen?”

“Get out of here,” Colleen barks. “You two are making me tired.”

They head out the door, Jack gesturing for Liz to go first, his hand drifting to her lower back as if to guide her. She twitches at first when he touches her but doesn’t move away.

Leo, ever the professional, doesn’t watch them leave. He's too busy examining the various machines hooked up to Mrs. Donaghy’s body.

“Interesting,” he says. “I think this machine is telling me that your heart isn’t beating. Perhaps I should perform CPR or use the defribbilator.”

Mrs. Donaghy pulls a knife out of nowhere. “I know my son brought you down here to take care of me, but if you touch me I will cut your balls off.”

Leo thinks it might be time for him to take a bathroom break.

Later that day, they decide to move Mrs. Donaghy to New York so Jack can take care of her at home. He offers to pay for Liz’s plane ticket back to Seattle from Florida, but she insists on coming along to New York to help Mrs. Donaghy settle in. Leo thinks he’s the only one who notices Mrs. Donaghy’s diabolical grin at that.

They settle in on Jack’s jet and Leo drifts off to sleep, under the influence of some really great pills. (Even if these same pills once led him to think he’d met Dr. Mengele only for it to turn out to be a six-year-old boy.) The pills cause some pretty strange hallucinations on the flight, including a bizarre conversation between Jack and Liz that would never actually happen, he's sure.

Jack: I did miss you, Lemon.

Liz: Is that why you never returned any of my calls?

Jack: I’m sorry about that. I thought it would be best to have a clean break.

There’s silence for a while. Then,

Jack: How are you, Liz? Are you happy?

Liz: You kissed me at my wedding, Jack.

Jack: I know that.

Liz: I kissed you back.

Jack: I’m miserable without you in my life. I should have told you not to move to Seattle. I should have told you not to get married.

Liz: Ray's a good man. He loves me.

Jack: The question is, do you love him?

Liz: That’s not the question you want to ask. You want to know if I love _you_.

Another pause.

Jack: Do you?

Liz: I hate Seattle. I hate working for daytime television. I miss TGS. I miss NBC. I miss—

Jack: Because I love you. I’ve separated from Bunny and I love you.

Liz: Blerg.

Then the hallucination ends and Leo sinks into a deep, peaceful sleep.

***

Pete thinks (knows) that love is insomnia.

“Liz, when was the last time you went home?” he asks when he comes across her early Monday morning in a backstage prop aisle with a bag of those disgusting Mexican cheese chips. She’s wearing yesterday’s clothes, has deep circles under her eyes, and he can smell her from five feet away.

She waves her hand dismissively. “I’m fine. I’ve just been working hard on the show. You know how it is.”

“I know that you have a brand new husband waiting for you at home,” he says sternly. “What’s he going to think when you keep avoiding him like this?”

She pops another piece of Sabor de Soledad in her mouth. “I’m not avoiding him. I’m working. He works a lot too. He understands.”

Pete sits on the floor next to her and puts his hand on her shoulder. “Is this about Jack?” he asks.

She stares into the bag. “Is what about Jack?”

“Remember how my wife and I were having difficulties, so I moved in with you, stopped showering, and stayed up all night watching _Tootsie_?”

Liz snorts. “Yeah.”

“That's kind of the way you're behaving now, only at least I slept at someone's apartment and not at work. I think you're doing this because you miss Jack.”

“I see Jack every day.”

“That doesn't answer my question.”

“I don’t miss Jack.”

Pete smiles sadly and pats her on the back. “You miss Jack.”

Jack, when Pete goes to see him with a question about wardrobe budgeting (no, Jack tells him, they cannot afford three Godzilla costumes or a genuine time machine), looks almost as bad as Liz, though in subtler ways. His tie is crooked. His hair isn’t its usual perfection. There are bags under his eyes.

“Liz would never have an affair, you know,” Pete blurts before he can stop himself.

Jack’s eyes go wide. “What did you say?”

“She’d never cheat on her husband, and she’d never have a relationship with someone who’s married. It’s just not in her.”

That’s all the time Jack needs to regain his composure, and now his face is a neutral mask. “I don’t know why you think this information matters to me—”

“You missed your chance with her,” Pete says. “You had years when you could have told her your feelings, and now she’s married and so are you. Don’t string her along. You have to let her go.”

Jack says, unusually helpless, “I don’t know how.”

“Find a way,” Pete says. “Because this is killing you both.” 


	4. Chapter 4

Ray thinks that love (and trust) is letting your wife travel all the way to Florida to be with a man you don’t like (or trust) in his time of need. And then letting her fly to New York with said man without asking any questions.

So what does it say about him that he’s cutting off his vacation to fly from Hawaii to New York without telling Liz that he’s coming? He decides not to examine that question too closely.

The town car pulls up outside of Donaghy’s house at 10 p.m. He rings the doorbell and a man in a doctor’s white coat whom he vaguely recognizes from Donaghy’s wedding answers the door.

“Can I help you?”

Ray clears his throat. “I’m looking for Liz Lemon.”

The doctor nods wisely. “Ah, another case of scurvy.”

“Uh, no. Liz is my wife.”

“Oh, of course! You must be…” The doctor’s brow creases in puzzlement.

“Ray.”

“You’re gay? That explains a lot. I thought Liz seemed dissatisfied with her sex life.”

Ray grits his teeth. “_No_. I’m _Ray._ May I see my wife, please?”

He pushes his way inside. He’s not sure what he’s expecting, not sure what he’s doing. He just knows that the mild suspicion and jealousy he’s felt ever since his wedding flared into something powerful and overwhelming when Liz answered Donaghy’s call about his mother in the middle of their lovemaking. 

He walks down a long hall with several closed doors on either side—bedrooms, he’s sure. He doesn’t check there first. He doesn’t want to believe that Liz is in one of those rooms (even if there’s a good chance she’d just be sleeping alone in a guest bedroom).

He finds them in the living room. The final credits of _The Empire Strikes Back_ are scrolling on Donaghy’s enormous flat screen TV. Liz and Donaghy are on the couch, his arm around her shoulders, their heads resting against each other, asleep. Liz looks more contented than she ever does with Ray.

Ray stares, his fists clenching and unclenching.

“Adorable, aren’t they?” The doctor comes up to stand beside him, his voice making Ray jump. “You know, I always thought they’d make a perfect couple. Just imagine their children—beautiful, smart, neurotic, with very confused political views.” The doctor sighs happily, then frowns. “Who did you say you were again?”

“Ray!” he snaps.

Donaghy’s eyes fly open and he gazes at Ray with something like disgust in his expression. He nudges Liz. “Lemon, wake up.”

Liz mumbles, nuzzles her nose against Donaghy’s shoulder.

Donaghy’s smile is soft as he prods her again. “Lemon, there’s cheese.”

Liz flies to her feet, he eyes wild. “What?  Where?” She spots Ray and goes very still. “What are you doing here?”

He’s not imagining the accusation in her tone. He admits to himself that she’s probably right to be upset by his unheralded appearance.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he says.

Her eyes narrow. “You didn’t trust me. This is the first time I’ve seen Jack in months, and you didn’t trust me with him!”

He glares at her. “Of course I trust you. It's him I don't trust!”

She takes two angry steps toward him and pokes him in the chest. “This is worse than the time you tapped our phone line in case I was making calls to New York without telling you.”

Donaghy snorts, but when Ray looks at him his expression is angelic. Ray takes Liz’s arm but she jerks it away.

“I told you, the tap was there so that I could record conversations with telemarketers who violated the No Call List and sue their companies.”

“Yeah? What about the time I stayed late at work and you snuck in wearing a janitor’s costume to spy on me?”

“I thought you might want to role play?” he says weakly.

Donaghy snorts again; Ray takes that to mean that Liz’s ex-boss is well aware of her attitude towards “sexual shenanigans,” as she puts it.

“Then there was the time I had lunch with a work colleague and you paid a waiter to spy on me; the time you snuck a hidden camera into a box of chocolates you gave me—I _ate_ that camera on accident, by the way; and let’s not forget that you accused me of flirting with a woman in the changing rooms at Bob’s Snorkel Spectacular four days ago!”

Ray splutters. Donaghy says, “I don’t blame you for the last one, Ray; I’ve always said her shoes are bicurious.”

“This has nothing to do with Jack and me,” Liz says, crossing her arms over her chest.  “You don’t _trust_ me, Ray. You never have.”

Ray snaps, tired of being made out to be the bad guy. “How can I? How can I when you’ve been head over heels for him—” he points an accusing finger at Donaghy “—since before you and I even met?”

Liz pales.

The doctor gasps.  (“Did you know there’s an inside pocket in my coat?” he asks, delighted, only to be ignored by them all.)

Donaghy’s eyes sparkle.

From one of the bedrooms, an old woman shouts, “What the hell’s going on out there?”

“If that’s really what you think,” Liz says slowly (Ray notes that she doesn’t confirm or deny his accusation), “why did you marry me in the first place?”

“I thought I could handle being second best. I love you, Liz. But you left our first vacation together since we moved to Seattle to console a man who couldn’t care less if his mother died.” He takes a deep breath, and, feeling as though his heart is being ripped from his chest, pulls off his wedding ring. “I love you, Liz,” he says, “but I can’t do this anymore. Also, it really hurts when you kick me in your sleep with those shoes you always wear to bed.”

“You can’t leave me, Ray,” she says, her cheeks reddening, rushing to pull off her own wedding ring. “I’m going to leave you first.”

“Okay, now you’re just being childish. Goodbye, Liz. My lawyers will be in touch.” He heads for the door. Liz races to catch up with him.

He pauses with his hand on the doorknob and for a moment they just look at each other. _I love her_, he thinks. _But it’s not enough._

“I would never have cheated on you,” Liz tells him. “I would have come back to Seattle in a few days and we could have been happy.”

“You’ve been cheating on me since before we got married,” he says, and leaves.

He doesn’t go straight to his car. He listens through the door, not sure whether he’s hoping to hear her cry.

“Get that smug grin off your face,” Liz says. "The most successful relationship I've ever had just fell apart."

“I’m not grinning,” Donaghy replies. (Ray can hear the grin in his voice.) “I would never dream of taking pleasure in your unhappiness.”

“And don’t think I’m going to hop into your bed or something! This wasn’t about you, Jack.”

“Lemon, I promise I won’t even make a move on you until the ink on all of our divorce papers is dry. You _are_ coming back to New York, aren’t you?”

“As soon as possible.”

“Excellent.”

There’s a moment of silence and Ray imagines that Donaghy is tucking a strand of Liz’s hair behind her ear (or picking a piece of spinach out of her teeth).

“In case you need the incentive,” Donaghy adds, “you should know that I’ve purchased the plant in Mexico where Sabor de Soledad is made and for our first date I plan to fly us down there to eat some straight from the bull semen-cheese machine.”

In a tone Ray has never heard from her before, Liz breathes, “I want to go to there.”

***

Bunny thinks that love isn’t the most important thing in the world. (She's lying to herself.)

As her current situation proves, she can live without love just fine. She can be happy without love.

She doesn’t have love, but she has the affection of a handsome, successful, passionate man. She doesn’t have love, but she has a beautiful home in which to live. She doesn’t have love, but with Jack’s help she can put her three younger siblings through college, as well as finally finish her own neuroscience degree at NYU with the possibility of going on to medical school if her grades are good enough. She doesn’t have love, but she has so much more than so many people.

So she doesn’t complain about Jack’s inattentiveness when he’s at home. She doesn’t confront him about his long hours at work. She doesn’t listen when he calls out another woman’s name during (rather extraordinary) sex.

She never mentions Liz Lemon to him. She doesn’t want to know what he’d say.

Love isn’t the most important thing in the world, she thinks, but love tends to be more enduring than anything else in life. And that’s why it really hurts to know that she doesn’t have Jack’s love—because someone else does, and that means that sooner or later Bunny’s going to lose him and everything that’s come with being married to him.

Jack asks her one day why she’s frowning into her salad. Knowing what he expects (wants) from her, she plasters a smile on her face and says, “I was just thinking about how much worse my life was before I met you.”

The answer satisfies him, but it leaves a sour taste in her mouth. 


	5. Chapter 5

Liz thinks that love is this. 

(He _gets_ her like no other person ever has, and she knows him better than anyone else—except maybe Jonathon, but stalkers don’t count.)

(He doesn’t push her into things, but he also doesn’t hide his certainty that they’re meant to be together.)

(He makes her laugh. With him, at him.)

(He’s the only one who calls her Lemon.)

(When she’s with him she doesn’t feel alone.)

(He still makes fun of her.)

(She actually desires him.)

(He wants to make up for lost time.)

(His mouth on hers, his hands on her hips, her back, her breasts. Her hands in his hair, tentatively moving lower. Rhythms, first steady, then less so. Gasping, moaning, burning, exploding. Then, sleep. Together.)

Yes, Liz thinks that love is this.

(Jack thinks so, too.)

***

Tracy thinks that love is better late than never (and better naked than clothed).

“Hey, have you and Liz Lemon done the dirty deed yet?” he asks, strolling into Jack Donaghy’s office, unheeding of Jonathon’s attempts to stop him.

“Excuse me?” Jack Donaghy says.

Tracy blinks. “Okay, you’re excused, but it’s rude to leave in the middle of a conversation.”

“No, I meant, what did you say?”

“You and Liz Lemon. I put two million dollars down on you two doing it by Christmas and I want to know if I won the pot.”

Jack Donaghy rubs his forehead. His eyes are sad. “Tracy. Lemon and I are both married to other people. It’s patently absurd for you to place bets about Lemon and I doing anything together.”

Tracy nods sagely. “Good point,” he says, heading for the door. Before leaving he turns back to add, “I’m going to put down another two million on you doing it by next Christmas—don’t let me down, Jackie D!”

He wins, of course. Tracy’s always (well, sometimes) (well, occasionally) (okay, very rarely, but still!) been a wise investor. 


End file.
